Chapter 4

The sound of hooves on the cobbles in the courtyard of the last homely house brought a few spectators to the entrance to see the new arrivals. Aragorns heart filled with love as he viewed the place he had called home for so many years, then quailed in his chest when he espied the Lord of Imladris, standing slightly apart from the rest, on the steps before the large wooden doors his face a placid mask as ever.

Sliding down from the back of Elladans horse he looked over as the twins dismounted Elrohirs fiery stallion. Having been on foot for so long the chance to ride again had been a luxury that Aragorn had enjoyed, although he hoped the twins had not found it too irksome having to share a mount for their journey home. With his feet back firmly on the ground he stood for a moment, feeling lost and unsure, to watch as the lord moved elegantly down the steps whilst the twins hastened to his side to be enveloped within a warm embrace. Hesitating with the uncertainty of his welcome he hung back, remembering all too well the comforting feel of those strong arms around him and not wishing to intrude upon their reunion, until warm brown eyes caught his with a gaze filled with such love it brought tears to his eyes.

"Estel."

The twins stepped back as Elrond opened his arms wide, smiling widely as he spoke the name almost like a prayer and Aragorn ran forwards, flinging himself into the elfs embrace, to clutch at him like a frightened child whilst tears poured down his unshaven cheeks.

"Ada." The one choked word was all he could manage as he buried his face in Elronds shoulder, inhaling the scent of the one who had nurtured him since he was a babe and whom he thought he had lost with his own stubborn stupidity.

Murmuring platitudes and gently stroking the young mans back Elrond led him indoors, closely followed by the twins, and along the corridors to the privacy of his own study, feeling they all needed to be away from prying eyes for this most emotional of re unions.

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"Gone! What do you mean gone?"

Doronor quailed under Thranduils thunderous gaze. The captain had returned to the kings halls four weeks after the patrol had awakened to find their prince nowhere in sight. A desperate search had revealed that his weapons and pack were also missing and with no signs of a struggle the obvious conclusion seemed to be that the archer had taken himself off somewhere on his own. A widened search of the area had revealed no further clues and the trees had either refused to tell or didn't know where he had gone and eventually Doronor had bid the patrol to continue without him whilst he made the trek back to face the king himself with the news. Wishing to keep the matter as private as possible he had requested a personal audience and thus they were now ensconsed in Thranduils own study separated only by the width of his desk.

"He was gone when we awoke, aran nin, my king." Managing to keep his voice steady under the kings irate stare was becoming more difficult but the captain was determined not to lose further face. "He must have slipped away sometime during the night."

"And why would he do that pray?" Thranduils voice dripped with sarcasm. "Surely you do not suggest he would knowingly seek danger on his own?"

The captain opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. How to answer that question, he thought to himself. It had been plain to him that that was exactly what the young prince appeared to be doing of late yet he did not know how to explain his fears to the king. He had been turning the problem over and over in his mind on the journey back to the halls but so far had come up with no easy way of broaching the subject. Taking a deep breath and hardening his resolve, he opened his mouth once more and was just about to voice his concerns when the door flew open forcefully enough to hit the wall with a loud bang.

"Aran nin, the prince!"

A distraught guard entered the room, heedless of protocol or niceties and rushed to the kings side almost incoherent in his distress.

"The healers. By the Valar. The prince. The blood!"

Faster than lightening Thranduils hand shot out and connected with the side of the guards face with a loud crack, leaving behind the scarlet imprint of its palm. There was a moments stunned silence as the incoherent elf regained his senses and his other cheek flushed rosy with embarrassment and shame.

"Calm down fool, or must I strike you again?" The guard visibly flinched and looked down to his feet as Thranduil continued. "You have seen my son?" The kings voice was clipped and icy, his eyes hard as chips of flint as he stared at the now quiescent guard standing in front of him. "Where is he?"

"He, he is with, with the healers Aran nin." The elf stammered out the reply keeping his eyes lowered. "They, they requested your presence urgently."

In two strides Thranduil was at the door before Doronor could move a muscle. Turning back he regarded the captain coolly for a moment.

"I will speak with you later, Captain." The way he stressed the ranking title Doronor wondered if he would retain it for much longer.

"Aye, Aran nin."

The reply was left unheeded as, with a swirl of aquamarine silk Thranduil disappeared rapidly through the open door, his heart beating wildly as he rushed to discover his sons fate.

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It felt as if he had never been away. All of Aragorns fears and misgivings had been swept aside soundly by Elronds warm and loving welcome, leaving him to wonder why he had ever thought it would not be so. Seated companionably in the lords private sitting room with his brothers and the only father he had ever really known, a sense of peace wrapped itself around his heart like a warm blanket.

Sipping from glasses of warm, spiced wine the small family had eagerly shared the happenings in their lives over the fifteen years of Aragorns absence. He had learned about all the comings and goings in the hidden vale, including the surprise bonding of one of the cooks with a healer well known to be a phillanderer, oft heard to decry the need to ever settle down with one mate alone and the latest disagreement between Glorfindel and Erestor which astonishingly appeared to have something to do with the nurturing of roses.

The twins had related their adventures both at home and further afield in attempts to check the recent upsurge in orc activiy and the worrying news of how much said activity had increased. Describing, in some detail, their battles with the foul creatures, they had been hard pressed at times to prevail and if it had not been for the timely intervention of a patrol of Lorien guards at one point, after chasing a particularly large pack to the very borders of their grandmothers realm, they may very well have succumbed to death, or even worse, capture.

"The foul creatures grow bold if they roam so near to the golden wood."

The young man pushed down the fear that had arisen within his chest at the thought of what may have befallen his brothers as he continued.

"It would appear that nowhere is safe from their evil presence any longer. Whilst with my brethren we have encountered them in every corner of Arda we have so far covered."

He took a sip from his glass before relating the tale of the years he had spent with the Dunedain, all that remain of his kin, as he had ranged with them, fought beside them and been accepted into their tight knit clan.

The evening was growing long as the final tale was told and Aragorn yawned, able to hide his fatigue no longer.

"Come, Estel," The lord of Imladris smiled gently at his young charge. "You should get some rest whilst you may."

"Aye Ada, I had not realized how tired I felt until now." The young man returned the smile gladly, "'twill be good to sleep in a soft bed for once."

The three brothers followed their fathers lead as he stood and walked to the door. Once out of the study they stopped to bid each other a good night and Elrond watched contentedly as Aragorn, flanked by the twins, walked down the corridor towards the room he had called his own since childhood.

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Thranduil sat beside the bed, staring at the slight figure covered lightly by a thin, cotton sheet. He had arrived as the healers were just beginning a preliminary examination of his sons wounds and could not help the gasp of horror from leaving his lips at the sight of the bloodstained, marred body they were in the process of uncovering. It had taken all of his steely resolve not to thrust the healers out of the way and gather his son to his chest in the way he used to comfort him from hurt as an elfling. Instead he had watched silently as the archers body was washed, stitched and bandaged with the utmost care before being laid back on pristine sheets, without showing any sign of awareness or movement during what must have been a very painful process.

Assured that all possible had been done to aid the princes healing he had listened then as the healers had suggested that rest was the most important thing for him now and that his somnolent state was due to the mind deciding what was best for the body. He could only sit and wait for Legolas to awaken in his own time.

Watching the shallow rise and fall of the sheet covering the too pale body the king saw again the multitude of gashes and cuts that had been revealed once ruined clothing had been removed. The healers had convinced him that none in themselves should prove fatal, there was no poison and in fact, it was the blood loss that most depleted the young prince but he could not suppress the anxiety that kept clawing at his heart as he remembered the gory sight. His eyesight blurred with unshed tears as he momentarily allowed himself to wallow in the thought of might have beens before taking a deep breath and reaching out to clasp his sons limp hand.

"Legolas," the whisper left his mouth so silently he was unsure if he had voiced the name or not. "Ion nin." His thumb tenderly rubbed back and forth over the back of the pale hand within his own as he waited, longing for some sign of returning awareness.

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The lively chatter within the dinning hall continued unabated as Aragorn strode in, feeling more refreshed than he had felt in a good while, after a most restful nights sleep. Greetings were called out and reciprocated as he walked through the room to the high table where his family and friends were breakfasting and with a nod to all present he seated himself in the empty seat opposite his father. The twins were in their usual places flanking Elrond and the seats on either side of his were filled by Glorfindel and Erestor.

"Good morning ion nin," His father smiled widely. "You look as if you slept well."

"Aye, your eyes are no longer like dark pits." Elladan remarked evenly.

"And your face looks slightly less lived in." Elrohir broke in with a smirk then winced as a toe caught his shin under the table. "Aie, that was not nice pen neth!"

The younger twin scowled across the table as Aragorn raised his palms and assumed an innocent expression before erupting into peals of laughter that soon had the whole table joining in.

"'Tis good to have you home Estel," Glorfindel laid a hand on the young mans arm and squeezed firmly. "If only to keep those two horrors from driving me to insanity with their antics." He nodded across to the twins who were doing their best to appear as guileless as babes but were not succeeding.

"'tis good to be home Glorfindel." A lump formed within the young mans throat and he had to cough to hide the hitch in his voice as he uttered the long unused words.

Helping himself to ham, bread and eggs from the serving platter in the middle of the table he settled down to a much heartier breakfast then he had known for quite some time and let the vague chatter from nearby tables wash over him as he ate. His ears picked out the odd word or phrase here and there but his mind was not really engaged until he heard someone mention Mirkwood. A sense of unease suddenly engulfed him and a frown creased his brow as he looked over at the twins.

"How does Legolas fare?" he asked quietly. " I have been remiss not to ask of him sooner." His eyes widened at the guilty glance the two quickly shared. "You have not seen him?" His frown deepened as they shook their heads in tandem.

"Nay," Elladan stated slowly, "We have neither seen nor heard from him these past few years."

"We have been kept somewhat busy Estel, as I should imagine, has he." Elrohir retorted defensively as he noticed the darkened gleam in the young mans eyes.

"I hope he does not think himself abandoned," Aragorn replied in clipped tones as if to admonish his brothers then sighed as a wave of guilt washed over him. "Though in truth, that is just what I have done to you all these past few years."

"You did not abandon us, Estel." Elladan caught the young mans eyes with his own. "You only needed a little time to yourself." Held in his brothers gaze Aragorn read the love and affection freely shown within and his heart lightened once more.

"To discover who you are." The young man broke away from one set of deep brown eyes to encounter another as Elrohir joined in the conversation.

"I thought I knew who I was." He replied almost sullenly.

"Aye," the younger twin smiled sadly. "You knew who Estel was," he paused to make the point. "But you needed to find out who Aragorn is."

The love and understanding held within the two pairs of shining eyes opposite almost took the young mans breath away. They knew him so well, this pair of fearsome warriors who had allowed him into their hearts. That they named him brother and bore him such unconditional love as was only given to family and the closest of friends had always brought a lump to his throat and to think that had not changed even after he threw it all back in their faces made him feel humbled in the extreme. He silently vowed never to give them cause for pain on his account ever again.

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Please.

Where are you?

Grey mist surrounds me as I search for something maddeningly out of reach.

I try to recall what it is I crave but my mind will not fix, keeps drifting away to watch the translucent tendrils twist and turn as if blown by a wind I can not feel.

What am I doing here?

What am I searching for?

A sudden noise intrudes upon my solitude and I try to focus on its source.

A word. A single word.

Kinslayer.

I curl into my mind and know this for the truth.

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~o~

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Deep within the fortress of Dol Guldur the Witch King felt the touch of mind upon mind as he melded with his master to relay the progress made. He reeled at the sense of pleasure passed through their bond as his lord conveyed his most profound gratitude then hissed with pain at the threat of what would be if his machinations failed to come to fruition.

Stepping to the window in the highest room of the darkened ruin he gazed out across the malicious forest before him and smiled with the ghost of lips. It would not be long now. He knew the will he was pitted against was strong but relished the battle all the more for that. He shuddered with unexpected sensuality. It had been too long since he felt another as worthy of his attention as that. Anticipation gathered within his mind. The breaking would be so enjoyable, he almost wondered if it was worth keeping it to himself, not sharing it with his master until he had had his fill. His mind raced at the thought before he checked it. No, that could not be. Yet if he was successful maybe his lord would allow some reward, a taste of the beauteous beings splendour, a chance to feel once more the touch of flesh upon flesh that he had been denied those past centuries. A sudden need filled him and he strode from the room to descend to the orc pits in search of release.

A/N I do hope someone is still reading this. I promise things will begin to get a little more lively soon :)

Thanks to those of you who are still reading and if you are why not let me know what you think. Good or bad!

Special shout out to cheekybeak for the review of the last chapter. :)